Tuesday, March 16, 2010

DAy 237: frozen

she had lips that tasted like trouble
her fingertips were broken and frozen shut
like my chest
we sat their in suffocation for what felt like minutes
staring down each others awkwardness
our bodies were speaking in tongues
and we couldn't control it
so we held our hands before our faces
shielding our souls from the fire
holding our hearts when we could
trying to cushion the fall
the breaking
the way we soared heavy
we heave in bitterness
our lips are turing to candy
sticky
like trouble
and we are frozen in our footsteps.

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